A Dark Sunrise
by Red Dragon10
Summary: COMPLETE A story arc from Legolas' and Arwen's first meeting, until the end of the age.
1. Beginnings

DISCLAIMER: Yup, obviously I don't own ANYTHING of this!! I wrote this fic and that is all..so don't sue me. Besides...I'm broke!^__^  
  
A DARK SUNRISE  
  
Chapter 1- Beginnings  
  
The Evenstar of the elven people stood, among the trees of Imladris, and felt more alone then she ever had before. She watched the moon arc across the twinkling sky and listened to the ancient song of the stars. Her love, Aragorn, was leaving. She had not known him for long, not in elven years, but in that time she had grown to love the mortal man immensely. So much so that she had decided to forsake her birthright...immortal life. And now she might never see him again.  
  
She hadn't been at the council, when he had made the decision. But word whipped through like wildfire through the elven halls, words whispered of the company of Nine. Arwen lowered her eyes from the heavens and let warm tears wash over her ivory cheeks. The 'company' were staying only one week, before they set out on their journey to Mordor. She hadn't spoken to him. She doubted she had the strength. She knew his decision to go was the right one, the noble one...and she saw that this was his path. Yet she could hardly let her true love go.  
  
A soft sigh sounded in the moonlight, and Arwen sharply brought her head up, searching the immense gardens. Her eyes finally found the culprit, though his lithe form blended easily into the willowy trees which stood around them. She did not recognize him- he was not of her fathers house, though clearly elven. Curiosity urged her to approach the figure and she did so, silently. But as she neared she heard the sharp intake of breath, as one startled out of deep thought. The elf groped for his weapons, and brought up a shining elven blade with frightening speed.   
  
'Wait!' Her voice sounded hollow against the steady hum of night sounds. He did not lower his weapons, until he caught sight of her figure; he promptly set the knife down. Encouraged, she stepped forward until she stood no more than 2 feet from the tall elf. Even in the darkness she clearly made out his fine features, and she raised her eyebrow in surprise. She had seen many elves, but none had the beauty of the one standing before her. The moonlight struck his finely chiseled cheekbones and glinted off his white-blond hair. But none of it compared to his eyes, which seemed to draw the light to them, and they glowed slightly, the color and wildness of the ocean she had never seen. They stood, staring at each other for a moment, the males face unreadable. It seemed carved of stone. Suddenly he bent forward slightly, and she realized he was bowing.   
  
'Undomiel.' The word was merely breathed, but still she reveled in the low melodious accent. She found her voice.  
  
'How do you know me? I have never seen you before.'  
  
The mans gaze intensified as he gazed on her, at last ripping his eyes away to look at the stars.  
  
'No other could hold the beauty of the Evenstar, fair one.' He stated simply, and he sighed again and leaned against the silver-barked tree behind him. She waited for him to explain himself, yet he stayed silent, his eyes sad. Her curiosity persisted and she took a step closer to him.  
  
'And who might you be?' She questioned, trying to be as polite as possible. The elf's eyes flickered in her direction and he spoke hastily.  
  
'Forgive me for my rudeness, my lady. I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood.' He looked sincerely apologetic. As an afterthought, he added, 'son of Thranduil.'  
  
Arwen gasped at this. Thranduil's son? How could she never have met the King's son?   
  
'I am not well around crowds, Evenstar,' he said, seeming to read her racing mind, 'and so I rarely attend celebrations and political meetings. I prefer the woodland.'  
  
Arwen nodded. 'Ah yes, and I envy you, Legolas, for often I wish I could melt into the gardens myself and never greet another 'noble visitor.''   
  
This prompted a chuckle from Legolas, who watched her with knowing eyes.  
  
'I certainly don't know how my father does it, caged inside the confines of our home so often. And I wonder how beauty such as yours can bare the strain of it, as well.'   
  
Arwen blushed at the compliment, but forced herself to look on the features of the elf. She was struck by how sad he looked. She caught much of the pain she herself had felt only moments before, deep within his fathomless eyes. She forgot her shyness, and laid a hand on the elfs forearm.  
  
'What troubles you so?'  
  
Legolas lowered his gaze, ashamed to have let his feelings play across his face so openly. His features instantly became unreadable again, and Arwen felt the doors in him close.  
  
'I am fine, fair one. Do not bother yourself comforting a weak soul.' But this only served to intensify her worries.  
  
'Please tell me.' The elf named Legolas turned to face her full on, and she nearly took a step back at the intensity burning in his eyes. So like the gaze of Galadriel...almost painful to endure. Yet she did not look away.  
  
'Middle-Earth if falling, Undomiel. Even now it shudders and screams against the bonds that men and orcs and foul creatures throw upon it. It cries. And now I am part of a Fellowship that..that has the chance to heal this land. Should we fail...'Arwen was startled to see his eyes glisten, and she knew that he wasn't telling her the whole story, but he turned his back swiftly, and stepped away from her, gathering his knives. 'Forgive me, my lady.' He went to leave, but she caught his hand and asked him to stop. He obeyed immediately.  
  
'My love also leaves with this fellowship.' The elf still did not look at her. 'He is Aragorn.'  
  
His voice was quiet, when he replied. 'Yes of course. Yours shall be a story of great love and greater sacrifice.'  
  
Arwen stiffened a bit. She went through the same argument routinely with her father. She dropped his hand, forgetting who she spoke to. 'It is my choice! I will willingly make such a sacrifice- who are you to judge?!' She piped angrily. Still the elf did not turn to face her, and it seemed his shoulders hunched.  
  
'May we all find a love so pure.' And he was gone. The Evenstar blinked at where he had stood only a moment ago. She had misunderstood his words. Yours shall be a story of great love and greater sacrifice. He had been praising her, not accusing her as so many of her people had already done. She frowned. She would have to apologize for her harsh words.  
  
-----------  
  
OK, all done[well, the first chapter anyways!!] LOL I apologize if this chapter was boring ect. ect., but this story may end up being rather long, and I need to lay the groundwork for..erm.. 'later developments'^__^ I would really, really appreciate reviews of all sorts..good and bad. PLEASE! Thanks a bunch. I promise to put up the next couple chapters shortly! --Red Dragon 


	2. The Ride

DISCLAIMER: OK, just the usual...don't own ANYTHING but this fic. Yadda yadda, don't sue..blah blah. Savvy?^__^  
  
A Dark Sunrise  
  
Chapter 2- The Ride  
  
Two days passed, and Arwen caught only a fleeting glimpse of Aragorn, striding down one of the many airy corridors of the elven stronghold. He was busy, she knew, studying maps and plans of the countryside between Rivendell and Mordor; busy packing provisions. Yet, she knew this was not the reason she had not spoken to him. He avoided her, and this worried her deeply. Aragorn had always told her everything, even when they were ill tidings. She realized this journey would be treacherous, but that was still no reason for him to neglect her. Still, she did not seek him out, but waited impatiently for him to come to her. The house of Elrond ran high with tension, and halls at night were empty of the usual merriment's and replaced instead with hushed conversations. Arwen couldn't bare it; the oppressive silence, her fathers strained face. Never had he showed any signs of aging, yet he had never looked so old.  
  
Instead of wandering the halls and gardens, she rode daily astride Asfaloth, reveling in the release it gave her, galloping across the plains bordering Rivendell. No where else did she find peace.  
  
And so, as every day before that, she galloped madly across the hills and plains, among the trees and through the rivers and streams, never straying far from the safety of Imladris. And she was a sight to behold, for her dark tresses whipped out behind her, and her steed charged the ground powerfully, and all could see the bright stars that were the Undomiel's eyes. She was Twilight's first star, and when she raced the sun it dimmed before her beauty.  
  
Few eyes saw her racing form that day, save for a lone elf, sitting easily atop his own pale stallion. Watching her out of sight, he urged Alafass after the fleet figure of Arwen's horse.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Arwen swung gracefully to the ground and hastily plopped down in the grass, leaving Asfaloth to graze. She was exhausted from her long ride, and more notably her long, suffocating morning in Rivendell. She sought relief from the fall sun in the shade of a few arching oaks, which stood out of place among the low shrubbery of the plains, dreading the feast which was planned for the night, in honor of the fellowship of Nine.  
  
This was going to be one of those horrid occasions she had just recently told Legolas about. Greeting nobles and relatives, as well as hordes of elves whom she had never met and didn't particularly care too. But she knew her place- beside Elrond. Still, perhaps this would be a good time to speak to Aragorn-- Arwen's thoughts were cut short as she became aware of anothers presence.  
  
Legolas sat, not 10 feet from where she herself was sitting, atop a magnificent stallion. She was surprised to see a smirk crossing his features; perhaps he was not as sad as he had seemed the previous night.  
  
'I apologize for startling you, my lady. You are wanted by your father. Apparently guests, in need of greeting, are already beginning to trickle in.' He could barely contain his grin. Arwen groaned, but remained seated.  
  
'I suppose you won't even be present tonight, Legolas. You'll probably flit off aboard your horse and roam the borders, yes?' She didn't bother looking up to confirm her assumption.  
  
'Actually,' he began, 'I think I will be obliged to come out of hiding this once, as I am one of the company.' He sighed dramatically. 'It will be quite a sacrifice, I admit. Being treated to elvish music, food and dance.' She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, while he laughed heartily. It was a heady sound. Being a guest, he wouldn't be forced to socialize- she would. She decided to change the subject.  
  
'You seem merry today. Quite a change from your low mood the other night.' Legolas' eyes clouded for a moment, and Arwen immediately regretted bringing up the subject.  
  
'I was wrong to dispair, especially in front of a lady.'  
  
'It is I who must apologize, Legolas; I spoke harshly the other night, and you didn't deserve my temper.' Legolas' face became more solemn still, and he nodded his head gravely.  
  
'I would never condemn a relationship that is so pure and free and perfect. Aragorn speaks often of you, but even his words do you little justice.' She turned crimson, and he colored as well. She looked up at him, her eyes locked on his, and neither spoke.   
  
Minutes or hours may have passed, before Legolas finally broke the gaze, seemingly unembarrassed. He was concerned about the time, he said gently, and he lept off his stallion with the grace of a wild cat, catching Asfaloth easily. He returned to her and bent a knee to help her on, though both he and Arwen knew she could have easily mounted herself. She smiled her thanks, and he swung himself up. His horse had no bridle, and she marveled at how his slightest touch directed the horse. He was very gifted, even by the standards of her people.  
  
Turning reluctantly towards Rivendell, the two made their way back in comfortable silence, a striking pair to all who saw them: one an image of the coming darkness, the other resembling first mornings light.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
There you have it, chapter two, as uneventful as the first! LOL, hopefully the next chapter will be a tad bit more romantic...ooo its the feast!![And dancing afterwards!!*wink wink nudge nudge* and you know what that means!] Heh, anyways, FEEDBACK is a must you guys!!! I wanna know where to head with this story!! Like it, love it, or hate it, do tell!  
  
-Red Dragon 


	3. Stirrings

DISCLAIMER: Same old, same old- LOTR is in no way my property or my creation. I merely write my fantasies and songs using JRR Tolkiens brilliant world and creations. I am sooo original. *grins*   
  
******************  
  
Thank you SO much for those who have muddled through and actually READ my story, and even gone to such lengths as to review it...I truly appreciate it! And yes, to anyone confused..this will *eventually* be a Legolas/Arwen love story- I'm just not sure how I'm going to work it out. I want it to seem true to character so it'll be slow slogging. I just don't know.****I also apologize to those who had to read this chapter as one big block- I had to re-format this stupid thing..I hope it is ok now anyways.   
  
A Dark Sunrise  
  
Chapter 3- Stirrings  
  
The evening began better than Legolas might have hoped. After returning to Rivendell with Arwen, they had come across Aragorn in the stables, much to the Evenstar's delight. Hastily excusing himself, Legolas left the couple in peace and went to refresh himself before the evenings festivities. Though his hair still hung flawlessly, he brushed and re-braided it. Changing into a delicate, fitted silver tunic, he discarded his usual weapons and kept only a dagger at his belt, in a handsome leather sheath.  
  
The smell of roast stag wafted under the sturdy wooden door of his chambers, and despite his reservations, he made his way eagerly down to the great hall, where he could already hear the hearty laughter of some guest. He ran into Elladan along the way whom he had known for many winters, and he felt himself slipping into a cheerful mood as he teased the dark-haired elf, who laughed softly at Legolas' good humor and slapped him on the back. Both of them stopped their antics as they reached the open doors of the great hall, which was already milling with men, elves and dwarves. Two hobbits, whom Legolas recognized from the council, hurried past, talking in excited voices and rubbing their hands mischievously.   
  
Elladan begged his leave and went to speak to a few Rangers who stood, cloaked, bunched in one corner of the hall. Legolas stood at the doorway, unsure of what he should do. He spotted Aragorn sitting in a heavy oak chair at a long table at the head of the hall, and Legolas walked purposefully towards him. He did not heed the whispers that followed him; he knew many of the elves had never seen him before, yet recognized his fine features and baring as royalty. He rarely presented himself in public.  
  
Reaching Aragorn's chair, he tapped the mans shoulder, drawing a grin from the Ranger, before he settled himself against the wall, crossing his arms. He did not like sitting in particular, and as out of place he appeared standing stone-still against the wall by Aragorn's shoulder, he would feel yet more out of place sitting in one of the huge chairs, and so he remained standing.   
  
At last Lord Elrond entered the hall and at his arm, the Evenstar. Legolas caught his breath, his eyes alighting on the maidens fair form, which looked exquisite in a gown of blue and silver. Apparently he was not the only one struck dumb by her appearance, for the huge hall fell entirely silent. Even the bawdy dwarves held their breath. Gliding as if on air, the lady accompanied her father to the head of the table, before taking a set herself not far from Aragorn. From his vantage point, Legolas could see Arwen sneak a glance at Aragorn, before hastily turning to hide her smile. All eyes turned to Elrond.  
  
'Let the feasting begin!' Instantly, music filled the halls and servants appeared carrying marvelous dishes of fine roast and salads and cakes. The loud voices of the guests trying to speak over one another resumed.  
  
'Legolas! Sit down, please,' said Aragorn, upon seeing Legolas leaning against the wall. Reluctantly Legolas nodded and took a rather hesitant seat on the large wooded chair, beside Aragorn. Aragorn chuckled at how uncomfortable the elf looked, perched on the very edge of his chair, as if he might spring into action at any moment.  
  
'Relax,' the former Ranger advised. 'This is going to be a long night..try to enjoy yourself.' Legolas sighed in resignation and drew in his chair, at last looking up to find Arwen watching him. She quickly averted her eyes, but he watched her a moment longer, a curious look on his fair face. She looked...guilty. But he quickly dismissed this and leaned back in the tall chair, his eyes roaming over the massive crowds.  
  
He saw Elrond, at the end of the long table, looking ageless and serene, yet wise from the knowledge that comes only after thousands of years. The proud elf Glorfindel, who bore a striking resemblance to Legolas' own father, Thranduil, sat at Elrond's elbow. Of heavier build than Legolas, his face was less chiseled, yet almost as beautiful, and his hair hung about his shoulders in golden waves. His eyes moved to Elrond's other elbow where Mithrandir sat, his busy eyebrows blocking his eyes from view. Legolas smiled slightly, pleased to see the Grey Wanderer; one of greater wisdom and power in all of Middle-Earth would be difficult to find. His eyes roamed more quickly now, distastefully sweeping over the stout form of the dwarf Gimli, who occasionally threw him a glare, between stuffing his face with everything in reach. He saw many a fair maiden, more than one of whom gave him a shy smile, or blushed as his eyes looked upon them. But his heart remained unmoved and he at last looked back at Aragorn, who was talking about his trip with Frodo, the Ring-bearer, and the other 3 hobbits. Though the tale was an exciting one, and he was interested to hear it, he found his mind wandering, and he contented himself with staring at the food on his plate, which he had eaten little of. Arwen made the occasional comment, and Aragorn continued his tale, drawing gasps and laughs from the Evenstar. Yet he did not hear it.  
  
Were one to look upon his face, they might think it were carved of marble, so fair and cold and expressionless it was. Only his eyes, their blueness ever changing and rolling like the sea, betrayed his existence.  
  
At last, after what seemed like hours, the dishes were cleared from the tables, and Elrond moved from his chair and began walking to the Hall of Fire, which stood at the end of a long corridor opposite the feasting hall. The guests lazily made their way after him, though Legolas followed hastily, anxious to get to the larger hall, where he might slip out unnoticed, into the gardens.  
  
Yet he stayed in the hall for a time, watching the guests dance with their lovers and mates, the fair elvish music lilting away in the background. He turned down a fair number of blushing young women, quickly returning his eyes to the dance floor. The night wore on, and finally he decided to slip out into the gardens, but he stopped as he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned expecting to see another maiden, but came face to face with the breathtaking beauty of the Evenstar. Her face was slightly rosy from the excitement of the dance, and Legolas couldn't help but notice how her eyes shone.  
  
'Legolas, you must dance with me before you slip away!' She said breathlessly. As he began to shake his head, she continued. 'I insist! Just one dance, I promise.' She reached out and grasped his hand, halting his departure. He noticed a number of curious heads turn in the direction of the lady's pleading voice, and, wishing to avoid a spectacle, he accepted, trying to steer her into the middle in order to avoid gawkers. Yet as soon as he got her there, the music slowed, and lost its cheerful melody, becoming a slumber waltz. A young elf's voice arced over the instruments, weaving a song of betrayal and heartbreak.  
  
The blessed light, tis gone from here  
  
Her glow is dimmed, her death is near  
  
Many of the couples drifted off the dance floor, and Legolas began to panic, seeing that only 4 couples remained. How he wished to escape! Yet Arwen's small hand grasped his own, drawing him closer. He almost feared to look at her, she stood so close.  
  
Alas her lover lies to still  
  
His dark grave graces the yonder hill  
  
To never wake, she sings his dirge  
  
Before with the air her soul will merge  
  
Fair maiden wanders to search alone  
  
World of flesh become world of bone  
  
Stealing a glance, he relaxed. She wasn't looking at his; her eyes were closed. Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer yet, and he felt her melt into him, raising her arms to rest about his neck. He stiffened immediately, but she nestled her face against his chest, and they swayed with the music, dancing as the song required- close.  
  
The spirit world her feet will tread  
  
By true love's dream her paths are led  
  
To find him gone, his road the end  
  
The promise broken, her heart is rend  
  
Many eyes followed the pair, and whispers formed a steady hum under the music. Even Aragorn was entranced by the spectacle. The 2 were completely synchronized, both their eyes closed. The firelight leaped over them, and it seemed to an observer that two stars danced together- the morning and the night.  
  
True love finds its pureness soiled  
  
And despair around her neck is coiled  
  
Alone she journey the way so cold  
  
Till the end is come, the world gone cold.  
  
Yet as the song drifted to its end, and the lithe male drew back to look upon the Evenstar, those watching were unable to hear the words passed between the two. Both looked surprised, and after a moment, the blond elf looked positively shocked. A new song began, quicker, cheerful yet the two stood staring at each other, until the male tore his gaze from her and walked hurriedly out the doors, his face twisted in a near grimace. The lady Arwen stood watching his retreating back, until he disappeared through the enormous doors. At last she sighed, and those still watching sighed with her; the spell broken.  
  
Elves went back to their wines and tales, and Arwen sought out Aragorn, who promptly asked her to dance. Dance they did, a fine pair, yet none forgot the magnificence of the two stars, day and night, joined at last.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Yay me, I finished my third chapter. I'm kinda unsure about where I should go from here..I shall think about it and hopefully come up with something. This story is far from over, as you can see, our favorite love birds are just taking an interest. Anyways, how did you guys like it? Feel free to tell me it sucked...I am terrible at judging my own work. *hint hint* Feedback is a must!! Thank you to anyone who spends their time reading this story..I appreciate it.  
  
--Red Dragon. 


	4. Farewell

DISCLAIMER: I don't claim to own any of the character's portrayed in my story. They all belong to JRR Tolkien...I'm only making up a situation. Don't sue!  
  
AUTHOR NOTES: Thank you SO much to all who reviewed. I really, really appreciate hearing from you- you have no idea how much a few words can affect and encourage me. So keep them coming..they make me want to write!^__^  
  
Chapter Four- **Farewell  
**   
The remainder of the week flew by all too soon, and the morning dawned on which the fellowship would begin their journey. Arwen hadn't seen Legolas since the dance, and his horse was always gone from the stables, so she assumed he spent his days riding. For this reason she stuck close to Rivendell, avoiding a confrontation, forfeiting her daily ride. Something had passed between the two elves that night, a feeling of passion she had never experienced- not even with Aragorn. As the songs mournful notes had ended, Legolas had drawn back to look at her face. Her gaze latched onto his and she saw it, passions fire burning as brightly in the depths of his eyes as she knew it was in hers.  
  
'We should not have done that,' Legolas whispered, dread filling his gaze.   
  
'It was only a dance,' Arwen lied, trying to convince herself. Legolas shook his head and stepped back, his hands raised as if to fend her off.  
  
'We should not have done that,' he repeated, and turned, weaving his way through the crowd, fists clenched. His absence left her cold, and she watched his retreating back with confusion.  
  
Arwen shook her head, trying to rid her mind of that memory. That night she had been troubled; had barely slept. Aragorn had asked her what was wrong, but she hadn't answered, because she didn't know herself. She had felt safe and loved and desired in Legolas' arms- feelings she had only ever felt when she was with Aragorn. She knew she must have misread them. And so she locked them up, and tried to enjoy her last days with Aragorn. Since the feast he had ceased to avoid her, and she spent much of her waking hours wrapped in his embrace.  
  
The night before they left Arwen approached Aragorn and pressed the silver-wrought Evenstar into his hand; in that moment she gave up her right to Immortality. It felt good to have made her decision; no boat would take her now, and she accepted her future life with Aragorn with open arms. She knew the bitterness would come later.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
The inevitable morning came at last, and Arwen braced herself for the pain of seeing her love leave. The possibility that he might die, and leave her alone on Middle-Earth, was far too much to bear. She needed to speak to Aragorn, a last time, to kiss him and reassure herself of his love. He was not among her people at breakfast. The stables were empty. At last she entered the gardens, but found a different figure standing under the shade of the swaying trees. Legolas. After brief hesitation, she approached him, wincing as he startled at her presence. His eyes darted to the sides, deciding the best escape, but her soft voice stopped him short.  
  
'Legolas, we must talk.' She saw him gulp, but a moment later he turned to her, and his face had turned to stone; she marvelled at this...never did his emotions slip past his iron grip. It was rather depressing. Only his eyes held any feeling- sadness. Great sadness that tore at her soul and quickened her heart. But seconds later he steeled his eyes as well, and she felt that perhaps she was talking to a tree, and there was no elf standing there at all.  
  
'Whatever passed between us,' she said quietly,' lasted but an instant. Don't grudge yourself a moment of passion, Legolas, for passion is never a sin.'  
  
She stood a moment longer, memorising his face, before she turned and exited the gardens. She waited for him to call after her, to run after her, to ask her to stay awhile, but no such response came.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Legolas watched her as she glided from his sight; his cool facade faded, and his stone shell crumbled, and he was only an elf again, standing alone among the trees.  
  
'Arwen.' He spoke it like a prayer, but his choked voice was lost on the morning breeze.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
Arwen stood, with her twin brothers flanking her, and bid the company farewell. Legolas knew she was holding back her tears; her eyes shone, and her ivory skin was marred by faded red blotches about her eyes. She spoke softly to each of the fellowship, her words for them alone. She came at last to Legolas, and for the first time in a week he met her eyes. They were guarded, but still she reached out and softly touched his cheek, and closed her eyes as she felt his hand brush her own. It was a traditional parting among elves, but Aragorn watched them still, a curious look upon his face.  
  
'Travel well.' Her words were barely above a whisper, and none heard her save Legolas. Bowing slightly, he stepped back away from her, and took his place beside the fellowship. He towered above them all.   
  
She spoke lastly with Aragorn, and their words were too soft to be heard by the company, but all could see the tears streaming down the Evenstar's cheeks. All could see Aragorn brush them away with infinite gentleness, contradicting his calloused hands. All could see their love. At last Aragorn re-joined the group, and they set out through the gates of Imladris. Legolas felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders (even as one settled about Aragorn's) as he left the elven city, and he stepped lighter as he accepted the knowledge that he might never face the Evenstar again.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
Well, sort of a short chapter this time...I warn you, the next chapter is going to be even shorter. But they _are_ necessary, so we just have to suffer through them, lol. Anyways, please review..I really need it!! I want to know if you like or hate the way I'm going about this story. Talk to you guys later..  
--Red Dragon  



	5. Thoughts

DISCLAIMER: Bleh..same stuff. I do not own anything of this! Nothing! I'm possession'less! No infringement intended.  
AUTHOR NOTES: Yep this is a nothing of a chapter...a very, very quick read.   
**  
A Dark Sunrise  
  
**Chapter Five- **Thoughts  
**   
The days dragged by for Arwen, and once again she felt the restraining confines of her elven home. She wished to visit Galadriel, to get out, but her father forbid it- orc armies marched by their borders regularly, though they avoided coming within shooting distance. So the Evenstar paced, and waited, and fret. She thought mainly of a dark-haired love. She saw his rugged face often in her dreams, though occasionally, it smoothed, paled, and was framed by straight, platinum locks.   
  
Arwen could still feel the passion of the night of the dance, and it vaguely frightened her. Her heart belonged to Aragorn of course, yet part of her had obviously connected with the blond elf. The worst part was she feared she had harmed the pale prince in some way, for he seemed genuinely afraid of her after their encounter.  
  
She sighed. She would simply have to let time take care of her desire. Surely her passion would fade. Still, she waited, her thought on the company. But they were not for the Ranger alone.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
The trail was hard. Long the fellowship journeyed over and under mountains- through the pain of losing two of their friends- along river and forest, amid battle and separation. Yet Legolas stepped lightly as always, often taking over the leading of the remains of the fellowship. Aragorn was tired, the elf knew. And he marvelled at how the mortal man jogged gamely along, followed grudgingly by Gimli -who had become a surprisingly fast friends- as they searched Rohan for signs of the abducted hobbits, Merry and Pippin. Frodo and Sam had parted ways with the rest of the fellowship in Amon Hen, and Legolas respected their decision to seek out Mt. Doom alone. He feared for them.  
  
Why he felt happy, running nimbly over the rough terrain of Rohan, was a mystery to him. But he thought it might have a little to do with the fact that he was many miles away from a certain elf, and her shining eyes. And her raven hair. And her ivory skin. And tender body which could melt in his arms-  
  
Legolas scowled. She may be far away, but still she haunted his thoughts.  
  
He had always been utterly in control of his emotions, but in just a few moments of dance, that restraint had crumbled as surely as his confidence around Arwen. Being away from her had given him time to regain control, to take back his confidence and aloof nature. Yet still he trembled at the thought of her.  
  
He remembered her voice inside his head, ringing out as clearly as though she had said it aloud. _Take care of him._ He intended to keep his un-spoken promise, and so he stayed near the Ranger, though doing so caused him pain. He felt that his feelings for Arwen were a betrayal to his friend. He wished Aragorn would yell at him, to punch him for even looking upon his love. But he did not dare whisper a word to the mortal about his secret feelings.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Blech...I didn't like that chapter too much. I felt like I was reading a text book or something. *sigh* Anyways, that's the last of the short/nothing chapters (for now that is!)...so the next chapter should be more...er...point'ful. Please review!  
--Red Dragon  



	6. Reunited

DISCLAIMER: I never have and never will own the character's or places of this story (yes that's right...that sound is my sniffling). I only made up the plot...everything else I borrowed.   
  
AUTHORS NOTE: I honestly cannot describe how thankful I am to have reviewers..I know many good stories are not so lucky. I dedicate this and every other chapter to my reviewers and readers, and to the Leggy/Arwen Undying Love forum over at Forums for Fans. You guys keep me going.  
  
**Chapter Six- Reunited  
  
**_"The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest." And as the Captains gazed south to the Land of Mordor, it seemed to them that, black against the pall of cloud, there rose a huge shape of Shadow, impenetrable, lightning-crowned, filling all the sky. Enormous it reared above the world, and stretched out towards them a vast threatening hand, terrible but impotent: for even as it leaned over them, a great wind took it, and it was all blown away, and passed; and then a hush fell."  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
"And there in the midst of the fields they set up their pavilions and awaited the morning; for it was the Eve of May, and the King would enter his gates with the rising of the sun."  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
_When it was finally over, the great Quest, and the shadow passed from the land for the last time, the peoples of middle-earth breathed a collective sigh. But this peace did not last for long. Gondor flourished under the rule of the new king Aragorn, whose strength and hope flooded over the land like a life-giving rain. Yet, the king remained reserved, and his people wondered at the far-away look in his gray eyes; a look that was always present.  
  
Legolas knew Aragorn's pain. Often, he would see the king stroking the silver Evenstar, waiting. And finally, the wait was over. A shiver of excitement ran through the White city. Few knew what the meaning of the preparations was, but still the servants hustled hither and thither busying themselves with their orders to prepare the castle.  
  
Legolas spent much of his time riding the windswept terrain surrounding Gondor. He distanced himself from Gimli, and even more so from Aragorn. He _knew_ what was going to happen. Arwen was coming for her king. They were to be married. The exhilaration of the ride freed his mind from such things, and he spurred his horse on and on and on. He didn't want to think of her; his twilight. So he ran. Aragorn watched him day after day stride to the stables, only moments later emerging with his stallion. He did not return until after sunset, going directly to his chambers. And even when Aragorn did manage to corner him the occasional time, the elf always avoided his eye- though his mood seemed pleasant enough. But now, the entire castle was to busy preparing for Arwen Undomiel, so the lithe blond elf slipped easily into the wilderness on his steed, and no one stopped him.  
  
At last she came.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Legolas had been back for over an hour from his daily venture. He still wore his dusty riding clothes which smelt of pine and water and horse, though he had splashed his face and brushed his hair. He knew she would come that night, as sure as he knew the sun would rise the next morning.   
  
He stood gazing out his stone window, until he caught sight of the faint glittering of sun on armour. Only seconds later the great horns sounded, and he saw Aragorn mount a dark horse and ride to meet them. _She _rode at the back of the huge company of elves: the Twin Stars, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond, and all their houses were around her. It was a great procession.  
  
At last, when the stars hung distant in the deepening sky, he saw the Lady alight from her horse. His keen elven eyes even caught the glint of her smile. Aragorn rushed to her, and oblivious to all that surrounded them, he swept her up in his arms and spun her around as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her ringing laughter reached his ears and he smiled sadly as Elrond laid the sceptre in Aragorn's hand, and gave his daughter to the king.  
  
His eyes left the company at last- as they made their way up to the castle -and rested his gaze instead among the heavens. Often he sought comfort in the ancient star-song, but tonight it only served to chill him. They, like everyone else, sang of the king of men and queen of elves whose love broke mortality's bonds. It was a song he was loathe to hear.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
When morning broke over Gondor, and its warm rays reached out to caress the sleeping White city, the bride was already awake. She stood, gazing out over the city that was to be her kingdom, and was immensely happy. It was midsummer's day- her wedding.   
  
Her cheeks flushing with excitement, she walked silently to the great baths in the lower chambers, summoning a servant to help her bring in water. Sinking into the warm liquid, she focused her thoughts on the busy day ahead of her.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Merely a few hours later, the entire kingdom was awake, and dressed in the finest they could afford. They gathered outside the castle in the gardens; a long, petal-covered pathway cutting the massive crowd in half. The wedding would be held there among the trees and relative wildness, a garden which was brilliantly green, the soft sound of falling water whispering in the background. It lacked the beauty of a elvish garden, but Arwen was determined to remedy that, once she was married and settled. Married. Arwen smiled and glanced at her reflection in the polished metal before her; finally turning to slip on a fine pair of delicately made slippers. Her hair was partially up, but most of her long dark locks hung curling down her back. A crown of golden elanor circled her head, and together with the light, pure white dress she wore, she truly looked like an elven queen.  
  
So when she finally stepped down the flower-laden path, her Estel waiting at the end, it was no great surprise that gasps rose from the crowd gathered, and many bowed at her beauty. Her long train flowed behind her and the light of the sun caught her dress which shone and twinkled; it seemed to be made of spider silk, so delicate it was.  
  
Arwen saw many faces on her way down that aisle: Galadriel, who gazed at her solemnly, a twinkle in her crystal eyes; her twin brothers, who grinned proudly at their passing sister; her father, who tears were washing freely over his face; and finally, Legolas, who's bowed head did not look at her at all. Yet she continued her walk, and met her love at last.  
  
Their hands were joined and they became husband and wife beneath the arching birch. Joy ran high throughout the land, though privately, the elven folk mourned the loss of their Evenstar.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
AUTHOR NOTE: I've always wanted to write out Arwen's wedding as I imagined it, and so I wrote this chapter. The italicised writing at the beginning of the chapter is a direct quote from 'The Return of the King'. --Red Dragon  
**  
  
**


	7. In Agreement

DISCLAIMER: I do not own ANYTHING in this story beyond the flimsy plot. No infringement intended.  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: Once again, just want to thank my reviewers. I live and write for you!*grins*  
  
**Chapter Seven- In Agreement  
  
**When Legolas woke the next morning, he flew through his early routine; eager to get out of the castle before the lady Arwen was awake. He did not wish to risk running into her.  
  
Abandoning any thoughts of breakfast, he slipped on his dusty riding clothes and strode through the gardens, taking the short cut to the stables. He paused, however, to savour the image of the rising sun as he always did. Closing his eyes he drank in its warmth and lost himself to its rays.  
  
It was then that Arwen Undomiel came upon him, though she halted a ways back in order to admire the elf standing among the trees. His head was tilted back slightly, exalting the morning sun, and its light bounced magnificently off his straight golden hair. She marvelled at how different the two of them were- day and night. Legolas seemed to melt under its inviting warmth, and she thought she could see the tension draining from his shoulders.  
  
But this image lasted only an instant, as the elf became aware of her presence, and the tension crept its way back into his stance. He did not face her, but she knew he was certain of who stood behind him; she was no ordinary elf...she was Arwen.   
  
Turning his neck stiffly to face her, he bowed his head, and his soft, 'My Lady,' reached her sensitive elven ears before he moved to continue on his way. But Arwen had not spoken to the elf since before the War of the Ring, and she refused to be brushed off so easily.   
  
'Legolas, wait.' She commanded, knowing he would obey. She approached his back, feeling him stiffen as she caught his hand and turned him to face her. His stormy eyes were drilled into the ground by his feet, and so she did not catch the wave of emotions that flickered across them and were gone. When he finally raised his gaze to hers, his eyes were once again stone, devoid of any emotion.  
  
'Legolas why do you flee from me?' She asked quietly, as though to a spooked horse. His eyes remained veiled.   
  
'I would never run from you, Evenstar.'  
  
'Then tell me why you avoided me all last night! I haven't seen you for more than a _year_ and you couldn't spare a moment to congratulate me on my wedding night?!' Her words had the desired effect; he appeared quite taken aback and she could see faint spots of colour rising on his pale cheekbones.   
  
'Forgive me, Undomiel,' he pleaded sincerely, 'I do wish Aragorn and yourself every happiness. Though,' he added as an after thought, 'I do mourn the loss of the elven peoples Evenstar, my lady, and I am not alone. Your father-'  
  
'My father would do well to remember that he is not 'losing' me. I am married, not dead.' Arwen sad flatly, and sighed in exasperation at the solemn elf before her, but his eyes had a far-away gleam in them as he spoke again.  
  
'Yet who other will grace the Undying Lands with such beauty as the night? For surely twilight's glimmer will ever remain only a memory in the minds of our people. For this we mourn.' His face was filled with the same melancholy emotion that Arwen remembered so well from the first night she had seen him, and she laid her pale hand on his arm. He flinched at her touch and stepped back, a trace of fear on his face. Arwen's brow wrinkled at this reaction and she tried to step closer.  
  
'Legolas-'  
  
'I think,' said Legolas, his eyes clouding, 'that I should be on my way, my lady. No doubt your husband awaits you.' He did not wait for her reply, but turned and strode through the garden, and was lost to her sight. She had an inkling of an idea where his sharp reaction to her touch might have originated. The look on his face was similar to that of the night at the feast and dance, in Rivendell. He recoiled in fear of his passion, and hers. It would not be deemed 'appropriate'. She hardly believed that a few intimate moments amoung fellow elves was unseemly, but apparently, Legolas did.  
  
Sighing in defeat, she realised this was how they're 'meetings' always ended: with her watching in confusion as his back disappeared from her sight. She was determined to not let it happen again.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
As the queen would have it, there was much celebration and rejoicing in the land of Gondor and amoung its people, and every night the halls were filled with happy song and dance and feasting.   
  
Legolas, thus far, had managed to talk his way out of these engagements, but that night, on a direct order from the king and queen, he was told his presence was required. Required. He huffed at this, believing it was Arwen's wish to make him as uncomfortable as possible. Still, knowing his place, he arrived at the long dinner table on time, dressed in clean leggings and his silver elven tunic. Elrond and Galadriel and Celeborn were all present, and they sat with their heads together in deep conversation. Elladan and Elrohir were seated at the table as well, and so Legolas sat down beside them, happy to talk to the Twin Stars. He could feel Arwen's eyes upon him as he spoke to the two elves, but he defied her questioning gaze and continued his conversation.   
  
The meal went well enough, and Legolas noted how happy Arwen seemed to be, seated by Aragorn, her hand entwined with his. Her eyes laughed and shined every time she looked upon her husband, and her pleasant mood cheered those sitting near her as well. Saddened though he was by her decision to stay amoung mortals, he was genuinely pleased to see the lady's delight. He squashed any other emotions down; deep so they might never be known.   
  
At last the guests of the table dispersed, each excusing himself to go to his chambers. When the crowd dwindled, Legolas left the table as well, and was startled when the dark form of Arwen materialised out of the shadows of the corridor.   
  
'What's this then?!' he said in utter surprise. He was not the sort to be startled.  
  
She did not answer but steered him into a quiet room. It was made of unfinished stone, and there was a huge fountain in the center. Vines grew up the sides of the room, and the heady scent of lilac was heavy in the air. The last remnants of the light from the sun outside filtered through a huge open window built in the roof. Legolas arched a brow in surprise at the room, and Arwen waved a hand distractedly.  
  
'It was a wedding gift from Aragorn,' she said, and her face hardened at the thought of the topic she_ really_wanted to discuss.  
  
'You,' she began primly, 'are insufferable.' She turned away from him and began pacing the stone stairs, letting out the occasional snort or huff, in a way most unlike the queen. Finally she stopped and faced the elf, who was standing with a mildly amused expression on his face, watching her anger build.  
  
'That night... that night of the feast and dance, in Imladris..._that_ was when this all started!' She waved her hands wildly, and Legolas struggled to contain his laughter. 'After a perfectly _appropriate_ dance, you shuffled out in a most cowardly fashion, and proceeded to avoid me for the rest of the week! Then, after finally returning from a journey that could have _easily_ cost you your life-' Legolas let out a pompous scoff '-you continue to avoid me, even on my wedding night! Next, after I sought you out rather obviously, you stormed off once again like a magnificent _poof_ and to top it all off; shunned me a final time tonight at dinner!' The usually collected Undomiel's voice had become shrill by the end of her outburst, and she took a deep breath to collect herself.  
  
'And now my father and brothers and grandmother are leaving, and all the places I used to call home will be cold and gray without their presence, and their light fades from my heart already, and still you avoid me.' She said the last part softly, and sat on the edge of her fountain, her fingers trailing in the sparkling water. All traces of anger had escaped her features, and only sadness remained.  
  
'When they have gone, who will light this castle? The elves are leaving, Legolas. I'm sure you've felt the call as well, and are no doubt planning to go with my father.' She looked up at him at last, her falling tears mingling with the swirling water beside her. His heart cried out to comfort her, the passion he had felt That Night rose again, but still he remained rooted where he stood.  
  
'I hadn't thought I'd feel the bitterness of my choice so soon. I love Aragorn- very much -but seeing my people trickle steadily through my fingers is proving to great a strain.' Her eyes were closed now, and Legolas could sense it was taking great effort for her to tell him.  
  
'The point of me telling you this, Legolas, is I'm begging you not to leave. Not yet.' Legolas' cool facade crumbled at these words, and he eyebrows drew together.  
  
'I'm not sure I understand, my lady,' he croaked. At last Arwen smiled.  
  
'Of course you don't. I _know _you remember that night. I _know_ you felt as I did. We connected, and that's all there is to it. your presence-' her voice faltered, reaching for words. 'You have quite a spectacular effect on my mood, Legolas. I can't help but feel that if you were to stay here, for a little while longer, with Aragorn and I, that I might be able to ride out my feelings of loss, and be the queen I need to be, and be fair to Aragorn, and survive the strain.' She looked at him again, and the light in her dimmed terribly. 'But I see now that this is too great a thing for me to ask, I would never be so selfish as to-'  
  
'Don't be ridiculous.' Breaking out of his stunned silence the blond elf sat shakily beside her. 'I wasn't planning on leaving with Lord Elrond any ways, Evenstar. That feeble excuse for a garden is in dire need of an elven touch, and I plan to do it myself.' He smiled weakly at her, but his previous misgivings turned it into a bit of a grimace. 'But I fear that being so near to you will do me no good, fair one. I haven't the foggiest idea what got into me the night of the feast, but,' he concluded with a wry smile, 'it seems to effect me every time you are near.' He looked away, a delicate blush colouring his fair cheeks. 'Your intoxicating.'  
  
Arwen's bell-like laughter made him snap around to face her again. He thought she was perhaps mocking him, but a moment later his thoughts were put to rest.  
  
'As are you, Legolas,' she replied, her eyes twinkling with delight, 'and there is most certainly nothing wrong with that.'  
  
They left the room that night as friends, their eyes gleaming kindly at the other as they said their good nights. Though friends they were, neither could deny how their hearts had leapt at the prospect of each others company in the days to come.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
AUTHORS NOTE: All I can say is- read and review. I'll be back. --Red Dragon  



	8. Bitter Goodbye's

DISCLAIMER: Nope, don't own anything! All credit for the character's/places etc. goes to the brilliant JRR Tolkien.  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: Though I am including some of the 'final words' which [in my mind] passed between Arwen and Elrond, I thought it only right to have much of it remain unsaid. Theirs was a very private farewell...and I tried to retain some of that privacy...I didn't say everything I wanted too.   
Once again, thank you ALL for reviewing and reading. I hope you like it, and if you don't..feel free to tell me that!^_^  
  
**Chapter Eight- Bitter Goodbye's   
  
**At last the days of celebration drew to a close, and a great company set out north, bearing the wain of Theoden. It was a long journey, but they made their way slowly through Rohan until they came at last to Edoras and the king was laid to rest in the green Barrowfields.  
  
That night was a great feast, but the mood was solemn in memory of the beloved king, and little more than a glance passed between the two elves; Arwen and Legolas.  
  
The last weeks had worn sorely on the new queen, and Legolas often saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. Aragorn did not understand. Legolas did. It was impossible for a mortal man, great and wise though he might be, to comprehend the sadness of a parting such as the one approaching. For Arwen sensed that these were her last days among her people, and she was quiet with her distress and bitterness. Every night she stood alone - as the riding company set up camp - among the trees, and gazed at the stars for long hours before silently coming to her husband and curling tight against him, as if grasping at the threads of life itself.  
  
These things Legolas saw, his keen elvish eyes following the Evenstar and sharing in her pain, for he, too, felt the agony of losing his father and best friends. Sometimes he would move softly through the woods himself, instinctively knowing where she stood, and he would come and lean on a tree not far from her, and she would be comforted. No words were passed then, for no words were needed. And when she finally said good-bye to her twin brothers, who she had always been close too, he was there to share the burden. Legolas' stony defences were stronger than ever; how he longed to leave with Elrohir and Elladan, to journey the wood lands and plains one last time, to imprint the sound of their laughter in his mind forever. But they were gone, and so he comforted Arwen and hid his own pain.  
  
Finally, when the long days of summer had passed, and the first chill of fall was in the air, the night came when the rest of the elves would pass from Middle-Earth. Legolas caught the subtle glance that passed between the two elves; father and daughter. Like wisps of cloud they moved away from the crowd, unseen, and together they walked far into the hills yonder, until even the eyes of Legolas could not find them.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
For the longest time they were silent, and they merely stood and stared at one another, the moonlight striking the two dark heads eerily.  
  
Never had Arwen seen Elrond as stricken as he was then, not even when his wife had sailed to the west. His eyes glittered fiercely, and when he spoke at last, is normally steady voice was choked with emotion.  
  
'So this is it, then?' The words were so simply put, so deeply sorrowful, that Arwen turned away to let her tears fall. How they burned. She tried to shut out the injured voice of her father, but his words cut her deeply, and as much as she tried not to hear them, they pulled at her heart in their sincerity and hurt.  
  
'At last the Twilight dims and the star flickers and goes out,' he mused, almost to himself. 'Would you wish to fade among mortals? None of them will be there to help you bear the burden. Death was once called the gift of Men, but for you it shall always be a curse. For the star does not die quickly. It's fate is to linger in the growing darkness, long after it grows weary and its light is gone. So shall it be with you, daughter. Alas! That I should see this day.'  
  
Arwen could stifle her sobs no longer; her knees weakened and buckled and she collapsed, feeling the warmth of her fathers hands before she hit the ground.  
  
'Do you care nothing for your people?' Arwen struggled to respond, but before she could her father spoke again; he had abandoned pleading the elven peoples case. Now he begged for himself. 'Please don't leave me, Arwen,' he whispered bleakly in the night, and the natural sounds around them quieted to listen to this last exchange.  
  
'It is already done,' Arwen said softly, at last turning to gaze into her fathers silvery eyes. 'I chose a mortal life, bitter though it may be. I have lived long, father, nearly 3000 years, and I feel my burden heavily. Don't make this harder than it already is. It is over.'  
  
Elrond's own cheeks glistened with tears now, and he stroked his only daughters cheek and thought he would never be whole again. 'Surely not...you are the Evenstar. Surely they would still accept you, should you come. Please Arwen.' Arwen's head was bowed and she stared at the cold ground and hated it, wondered how something could be so cruel.  
  
'Don't.' She said nothing more, but he knew she was truly lost to them. He had known so many years ago, as much as he had denied it, when Arwen had first laid eyes on the Ranger Aragorn. He had known. Abandoning the fight, he wrapped his strong arms around her and sucked in her scent that one last time, and they stood like that for long hours, and wept, and spoke soft words of endless love, and the stars cried out their silent song of agony to the heavens to see such a parting.   
  
When at last the first fingers of day stretched in the east, the two of them spoke their final words, and went their separate ways, and each took a little of each other, for they shared the unbreakable bond of blood. Arwen could hear her fathers voice, as she walked blindly through her tears, rise in a heartbreaking lament that tore at her very soul. Years and years later the aching melody would linger in her mind.  
  
Even the mortals could feel the pain that suffocated the air that night; even they sensed something was amiss. But only Arwen and Legolas felt the true blow of the elvish leave. Only they, and the earth itself, which shuddered and wept along with everything else in its bitter ageless way, knowing that the ancients were leaving.  
  
Arwen did not go to her husband that early morning, to find comfort in his warm embrace. Instead she waited on the edge of the wood where they were camped, and sure enough, the lithe figure with his shining hair and pale face found her. As ever, no words were shared, but they went to one another and embraced in the shadow of the trees. The clung together like a life line as they felt their people depart. They clung together until the sun rose high and the much-reduced camp waited for the queen to return from wherever she had gone. They clung together, and the earth and sky fell silent.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
AUTHORS NOTES: This chapter I've been wanting to write for AGES. I always thought the last moments between Elrond and Arwen would be utterly heartbreaking, and that the very earth itself would cry when the elves, fairest of all beings, left their shores. Thus, I wrote this. But the bitterness is only beginning! *cackles evilly*   
Please review! Good, bad and ugly review welcome.  



	9. Fires Touch

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not, and will not, ever own anything of these character's, places, or anything else besides my excuse-for-a-plot.^_^ I don't have any money, so you might as well not sue.  
  
**AUTHOR NOTE: **WEEEE!! Heh..I enjoyed writing this chapter..there's a certain, tiny, litttllle bit of goodness in this one. Hope you enjoy! Thank you to all my reviewers, whom this story truly belongs too, and especially my buds at Forums4Fans Undying Love forum..you guys are the best. *huggles*  
  
**A Dark Sunrise  
  
Chapter Nine: Fires Touch  
  
**Their sorrow was relentless, as is the way with elvish grief. It tore away at both of them, but only Arwen bore outward signs of her pain. Both crumbled when they thought they were alone, though only Legolas attempted to hide all trace of his sadness. He seemed, to an outside observer, the same as he had always been; silent and ever present, polite, ethereal, and never far from the queen. Those close to him saw the subtle changes, however. Always was he there for the Evenstar, to support her emotionally, to listen to her, until at last her silent tears ceased. Still, he had drawn himself back, put in place his stony wall of defences permanently; the boyish humour he had shown in the Quest all but gone.  
  
He would gaze at the stars for hours and hours at a time; so long, in fact, that Aragorn would send men out to find him. And Arwen, Arwen who had seen his heart in the precious few moments in which he lowered his guards, had observed his sorrow laid bare, even when Aragorn himself did not see it. She did not know what to make of his silence, and so she waited for him to come to her.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The people of Gondor had gradually come to realise that elves had at last departed. Thranduil and some of his folk still dwelled in Mirkwood, and some spoke of Celeborn joining him in his rule, but most thought these no more than rumours.  
  
The people assumed this accounted for the queens 'illness' (as they called it), for they had heard strange tales of elves and their fragile hearts. Most believed it would pass with time; that there was no ill their great king could not heal. Only a very few watched the blond prince who stood in the shadows, and the way the queens dark eyes always searched for him, and knew the truth: Arwen Undomiel held onto life by a thread; a single bright thread anchored to the forest elf, and steadied by the king. Yet she was not without joy. Word came of the queens pregnancy, and it seemed, to the kingdoms relief, that the light shone once more in the bright eyes of the Undomiel.  
  
The Gondorians were not far off the mark, in their assessment of the queen; Arwen felt better than she had in weeks. Already she could feel the ever so small, ever so delicate life which resided inside her. But all was not well.  
  
Arwen saw the change in Legolas, but he would not speak of what troubled him so. It hurt the Evenstar even more to know that he distanced himself in particular from _her_. She feared she perhaps had said something to hurt him, for every time she drew near his impenetrable defences came up once more, and she despaired in discovering his hurt.  
  
Once, she caught him sitting on the edge of the city, atop his pale stallion, his gaze fixed on the western horizon. It was then that she knew; her anchor grew restless.  
  
_He's going to leave me, _she thought in sudden panic_, Legolas will leave and I shall sink into grief too deep for me to conquer. Valar help me.   
_   
That night she spoke to Aragorn, entwining her hand in his, pleading with her beloved to order Legolas to stay. Aragorn did not answer, but lifted his free hand to brush her cheek.  
  
'He truly has kept you here with me,' he said thoughtfully, and Arwen knew he did not mean physically. 'Your really here...I can see it in your eyes. You'll not break after all...' he smiled softly and seemed to remember her pleading words. 'No, my love, Legolas is not mine to command. He has only ever followed me of his own free will, and I think he would not take kindly to being ordered. He is not the care-free, innocent elf he once was.' He sighed, and stroked Arwen's flawless cheek, wiping away the little trails made by her tears. When he spoke, his words were so tender she thought perhaps he did understand the depths of elvish grief.  
  
'I have watched you, day by day; seen you draw away from me in sorrow, seen your hurt at Legolas' distance. He loves you, my lady, and he surely would not want you to weep. Have no doubt: wherever he might go, however long he might stray, he would never leave you. His loyalty is perhaps his only weakness.' Aragorn smiled, and again Arwen marvelled at the noble strength that stirred in those gray eyes.  
  
'Seek him out, and let him go.' His eyes became distant, and Arwen was at a loss to describe the emotion she saw in those eyes of his. 'Let him heal; we all have our demons to face. He will return to you.'  
  
'And you, my lord.'  
  
'Nay, lady, Legolas refuses the Call only for you.' He smiled again, kindly, and kissed her softly on the lips. 'Go to him.'  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The night was clear and cold when she saw him again. Arwen stood silent and still, her eyes fixed meditatively on the stars above, as she had done in years past. She was a thing of the stars herself, and she found comfort in their steadfast grace.  
  
She felt his presence suddenly, and realised he had probably been watching her for quite some time. He had revealed himself to her; one did not see or hear Legolas, unless he chose to be seen or heard.  
  
'What do you see in the stars, Legolas? My mind is clouded of late.' The lithe elf stepped out of the shadow of a nearby birch, and was bathed in the silver moonlight. Arwen gazed at him, almost jealously- the elven light would gradually fade in her, but never would it leave this one; there it burnt strong and steady as an ocean tide, a lone candle in her darkness.  
  
He did not speak for a long time, but only stood with his head thrown back, his gaze fixed unblinkingly among the heavens.  
  
'The stars say many things, my lady. But mainly they speak of an age past, and of the age to come.' He turned suddenly, his eyes focusing on hers so sharply she looked away.  
  
'Middle-Earth is in a time between times. It stands on a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two ages. Your strive in vain to look beyond the heights.' Arwen was startled by his wise words, but the blond elf's face remained passive, his words toneless. 'From the voiceless lips of the unreplying elves there comes no hope; but in this time of darkness, I see a spark- I see a path among many possible paths, which men might take. Will they have the wisdom to choose the right one? The way is narrow.' He was turned away from her now, and she was confused by the meaning of his words. _What path?_ Legolas turned to see her brow furrowed, and his mouth quirked into a smirk.  
  
'I'm sorry to have spoken, Undomiel. I'll leave you to your thoughts.'  
  
'No.' Arwen spoke before Legolas could turn, and her small hand gripped his forearm. 'You speak of paths,' she said slowly, her eyes fixed on the trees over Legolas' shoulder. 'Do you really mean my path? Strange, that even among all this despair, I do not regret my choice. It is not good to dwell on what might have been.' Arwen cast a long look at Legolas, and he barely kept himself from blushing at her implications.  
  
'I did not speak of your choice, Evenstar,' he said softly, gently removing his arm from her grip. 'Though perhaps I question my own.' He said no more on the matter, and Arwen decided to press the issue.  
  
'And what choice was that? That you would sail and leave me here alone with no light at all?' He did smile then, genuinely, and almost laughed as well.  
  
'Not everything pertains to your personal feelings, fair one! I have my own grievances, my own hurts, and one above all others, which you will never know.' She studied him, but let it rest, remembering Aragorn's words: _We all have our demons to face._ What was this demon that pained the lithe elf so?  
  
'You grow restless. I can see it, I have seen it. Only tell me one thing... will you return?' Her words were frustrated, but not so frustrated that they masked her hurt. Legolas tried to touch he shoulder, but she shrugged him off angrily.  
  
'I am not going to sail, if that is what you ask. Gimli has returned to Gondor. I will go with him, and we will see the great Fangorn Forest, and the Glittering Caves, and then I will return.' He lowered his voice. 'I will come back before your son is born.'  
  
'My son?'  
  
Legolas did not reply, but gathered her in his arms, this once, before he set out on his journey. He could only hope that this time apart would heal his heart of its passion.  
  
He could not say at what point this embrace, which began as one of simple farewell, turned into something quite different. Both recognised the moment of danger; Legolas instinctively tried to draw back out of her arms, but she tightened them, just for an instant, and his hesitation passed. He looked curiously at her.  
  
'Just once,' she said so softly, none but an elf could catch the words. His hands, so steady when drawing his bow, trembled slightly when the brushed her cheek, and touched her eyelids, and nose, and lips. She stood frozen under his touch, willing but passive; straining to keep her fire from boiling over uncontrollably. Her eyes flew open when his lips brushed hers, but still she did not move. She only took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the heady scent of this elf before her, mingling with the crisp fall air.  
  
At last he stepped back, and she let him though it pained her terribly, and he seemed not at all embarrassed; only sorrowful. And he was more beautiful even than she had ever seen him; at once sad and joyful, powerful yet overcome by his strange unknown weakness.  
  
He tilted his head to her, formal once again, and breathed, 'I will come.' and he was gone. Plucked as though from thin air, as always, leaving the dumb struck queen with a hand to her burning lips, staring at he spot where he had stood but a moment before.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
**AUTHOR NOTES: ** Well, hopefully you liked that alright...I've been longing to get in a little kiss, however small. And this is not the end. What is Legolas' demon? His weakness? You shall soon find out.*claps hand in insane glee*  
  
**REFERENCES:** Yah I was all unoriginal and I went and took some lines from places besides my head.   
_ 'Middle-Earth is in a time between times. It stands on a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two ages. Your strive in vain to look beyond the heights. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying elves there comes no hope;....' _ - this is from a speech made by Humanist Robert Green Ingersoll at his brothers grave. I modified it.  
'_He could not say at what point this embrace, which began as one of simple farewell, turned into something quite different. Both recognised the moment of danger;...' _- this one is taken from 'Son of the Shadows' by Juliet Marillier(good book..good series). Once again, I changed it slightly.  



	10. Return

**DISCLAIMER:** All of you know perfectly well that I own nothing of this- not the character's, not the places...I only own the love story, and that is all.  
  
  
**AUTHORS NOTE:** I think that I will have maybe 2-3 more chapters after this one, before Aragorn kicks the dust. Is that all right? Do you think I should have more? Less? Please let me know, whether by review or email or whatever. I think this story may be about 6 more chapters long, not including an epilogue, so I'm trying to pace things out. Anyway, please tell me what you think.  
  
  
**A Dark Sunrise Chapter Ten: Return**  
  
  
As the sun broke over Gondor the following morning, Arwen resisted the urge to rise and run to the stables to beg Legolas not to leave. Instead she lay stiffly in bed, her eyes drilled into the window ledge, watching the suns rays creeping over the edge, warming the stone, sweeping steadily towards the bed in which Aragorn and her lay. She could almost imagine the blond elf, his head tilted back for a moment to catch the sun; yes, she could see the exact expression on his face. How long would it be before she could observe that sight again? Months? A year? She drove her mind away from the elf, and concentrated on her husbands hand, which was resting protectively over her still-flat belly. She smiled slightly. _Maybe I won't be so lonely after all._   
  
  
She could not, however, forget the fire of Legolas' lips.  
  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
If Gimli wondered at Legolas' silent mood that morning, he did not voice his thoughts. That was, perhaps, why Legolas was so comfortable with the dwarf. The dwarves were generally a bawdy race, but it seemed that Gimli was an exception. The silence suited Legolas perfectly; he who was accustomed to no more company than the wilderness offered, he who had never been skilled at expressing himself. Aragorn thought him an enigma, Arwen thought him secretive, but to Gimli, he was only Legolas.  
  
  
And so that morning, as Legolas prepared Gimli's horse (for the dwarf was not tall enough to tack his own animal up) he was left to his quiet thoughts. You would not know, from his expressionless face, that things were different from what they had been a day ago. Yet they were. Legolas could not, would not, face Aragorn after what he had done the night before. He had touched the Evenstar, kissed her, in a way no one but Aragorn had a right to. It had been a selfish action; a little luxury he had allowed himself before leaving. Not that he regretted it. His actions simply gave him yet another reason to leave with Gimli. Time; that was what Arwen and he needed. Surely a simple kiss would be forgotten by the queen the moment he was gone. Surely.   
  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
  
Time passed, and Arwen grew heavy with child, to the kingdoms delight. Aragorn was convinced that the child would be a boy, though secretly Arwen wished for a girl. It was a strange mood she was in these days; she was both more happy and more sad than ever before. The coming baby granted her a happiness she had not known since her long ago days as an elfling. Yet her day drew near, and still there was no word of Legolas, and this weighed heavily on her heart.  
  
  
Time had passed slowly, as she had expected, since the clear day that Legolas and Gimli had departed. Aragorn had been deeply hurt at Legolas' farewell, or lack thereof. Legolas had never been one to leave without warning, and his behaviour confused the king. But Arwen knew. She had known the moment his lips touched hers that he would leave with dawn's breaking; that he would be gone long before his friend and king awoke. Did he regret his actions? Perhaps. Did she? Strangely enough, not at all. It had felt right, so right to have him kiss her. To kiss Aragorn was to come home; warm, inviting, _comfortable_. To kiss Legolas, even for a moment, was to see distant lands, to taste the air and woods and wilderness. More than anything, kissing Legolas conjured visions of the sea she had never seen. Kissing Legolas, she felt the crashing waves; the roar of them as they broke on weathered rock, the unbridled spirit of it. It was exhilarating, but not in the way one feels exhilarated when doing something wrong. Truly, she felt no guilt.  
  
  
And every time she thought of his kiss, his farewell, she remembered his words, _I will come_. Yes, she was certain that he would, but would he come in time to be near when her child was born? She did not think so. Alas, no elves would be close when her child arrived; it would not be blessed with the light of the elder. For hers, she had noticed with despair, had fled with her peoples leave.  
  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
Legolas rode hard, sensing the Evenstar's time drew near, and Gimli puffed along on his little mare behind. Still, he would never be one to ride a horse to exhaustion, and so they stopped and rested each night, though often he seemed to stand gazing into the night and not to sleep at all.  
  
  
When at last they arrived in the white city, Legolas knew he had come too late. The people of Minas Tirith whispered at the blond elf's return (for they thought he had sailed with the rest), especially in the company of a dwarf. But even this excitement could not distract them from the chatter of the queens new son, Eldarion.   
  
  
His promise weighed on his shoulders as he made his way up to Arwen's room. _I will come back before your son is born._ He had lied. Legolas winced silently, taking no notice of the knight who was escorting him, and staring openly.  
  
  
They finally arrived before the heavily carven door, which Legolas knew to be hers, and the knight pushed it open without taking his eyes from Legolas. Taking a deep breath, the elf stepped passed him, and there she was. She sat at the window, the sun washing over her fair features, turning her raven locks to chocolate. In her arms lay her child, fast asleep, his little fists balled under his chin. Arwen's eyes were closed against the sun, and Legolas was loathe to break the picture of utter peace which was in her face. It was a rare thing for elves to be so peaceful; but then, Legolas thought to himself, the Evenstar is no longer an immortal.  
  
  
When he shook himself from his thoughts, the queen was watching him and he found, to his surprise, that he could not read her expression. He walked softly to her side and knelt by the window, but he did not touch her. No words were passed; he simply gazed into her eyes, searching their depths, apologising in his quiet way. She may not have been an elf anymore, but she still understood the silent language of them, and she saw his pain at his late arrival. She placed her fingers on his lips, silencing any words, and then lowered her hand to tenderly stroke her sons sleeping cheek.  
  
  
'So you wish to hold him?' Legolas didn't particularly, but she was already placing the little bundle in his arms, and his hands curved to cradle him.  
  
  
Little Eldarion shifted and began to wake, but a soft word from Legolas set him at ease. He was so delicate! Legolas feared he might crush him in his arms, but it seemed his body knew well enough how to handle the baby.  
  
  
'He looks just like your father,' he said quietly, when Eldarion opened his eyes and lay blinking at the blond elf. They were storm grey. Arwen said nothing, but when Legolas looked up he saw her eyes were shining with tears.   
  
  
'How I miss him...' she breathed, and now she reached a hand out to tentatively touch his cheek, as though she wasn't sure he was really there. 'I missed you. I felt...alone. Even with Aragorn here, I missed the elves. And you most of all.'  
  
  
Legolas smiled, and let her touch him, before placing the baby back in her arms. His hand came out, it neared her face, and it seemed he would touch her. He dropped it before he touched her however, and his face was only a little pained.  
  
  
'I never left, Arwen.' He turned and was gone, but Arwen was content. Legolas was with her, and all was well.  
  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   
  
  
OK, so once again, please, PLEASE review! At least tell me what you think I should do about the number of chapters between this one and Aragorn's death. Please? Thank you for reading...I hope you like it so far; yes, I know Legolas/Arwen don't seem to be, uh, _progressing_ much, but give them time. I promise to stick another LONGER kiss in the next chapter. I just think it would be out of character if they moved any faster than they are now. So anyway, please review, and I'll get on the next chapter as quickly as possible!   
-- Red Dragon  



	11. Gondor

**Disclaimer:** As always, I don't own anything, yadda yadda yadda..you all know the drill!  
**A Dark Sunrise  
Chapter Eleven: Gondor  
** As it is with all children, Eldarion grew into a strong youth with the speed of a weed; or so it seemed to Arwen, who watched her son grow with joy, and just a little sadness; Eldarion was not the only loved one who was ageing. Aragorn's silvery hair had not gone un-noticed, nor had his gentle reluctance at long rides and play and late nights; even the bitter winter winds were too harsh for him, and so Arwen watched the stars dim with the coming of the sun alone.   
  
The years had brought Arwen and her husband daughters as well, their last child, Seraliem, almost 17 years old.   
  
Arwen sat on the stone parapet of her keep and watched the sun rise, the last morning stars winking at her, before they too gave up the battle. Her eyes roamed over the gardens but could see no flash of gold. She sight and straightened; her elvish sight had left her so long ago, but still they searched for the last remaining elf on Middle-Earth.  
  
Legolas.  
  
How he stilled his sea longing she never knew, for their moonlit garden walks had faded into the past like the peoples memories of the Eldar. Often in the deep of the night she could hear his voice raised in melancholy song, in the garden, but she dare not go too him; the song was haunting and private - a plea - and she could not make herself break that peace. She was apart from that burden now, yet that knowledge burdened her all the more. In those moments she would lay frozen in her bed, Aragorn warm and sleeping beside her; listening to the fair voice that cut through the still air.  
  
Few of the towns folk saw the elven prince these days; the blond elf kept to himself, hoarding his pain, un-reachable, but unwilling to leave his king and queen permanently. Some nights he would return to the gardens to wander, though often he would stay in the wild for weeks at a time.  
  
He never, however, neglected Eldarion. The young man would silently gather his bow of ash and his dagger and glide from the room, his elven training evident in his every move. Aragorn allowed this, realising the importance and rare opportunity his son was receiving by capturing the attention of Legolas. Besides, his son was certainly safe with Legolas; no guard escorted Eldarion when he went to stay with the reclusive elf.  
  
When Eldarion would return from a time with Legolas, everyone noticed a difference in him; a certain distance and maturity. Most wrote it off as the effects of time away from home and family, but Arwen knew better. Eldarion would come to her always the night he returned, stroking her hand and gazing far beyond the horizon. Arwen did not ask questions. The only words her son would speak were 'he is thinking of you. He always asks.' and that would be all. But it was enough.  
_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^  
  
It was a day like any other when he returned from one of his long absences. Arwen woke early and left the keep, walking out into the early morning sunlight, which banished the few drops that clung to the blades of grass, leaving the scent of rain in the air.  
  
She treasured moments like this, embracing the stillness which she so rarely enjoyed lately. A flash of gold caught her eye this particular morning; a brief clash of light in the shadowy garden. Her breath caught and she started forward, oblivious to her elvish dress which cut through the grass and soaked up the dew.  
  
_It couldn't be. . .  
_   
And there he was; his head thrown back, a faint smile on his face. She couldn't help it; her hand flew to her mouth, tears springing instantly to her eyes as she let out a faint gasp. He was exactly as he had been, those mornings so long ago. So long ago . . .   
  
But he had heard her, and turned to face her, the smile gone, his expression startled.  
  
'Undomiel. . .' his voice was slightly alarmed, probably due to her heaving shoulders. She had not moved from her place, and with her hand she tried to push back her sobs, and failed. She simply couldn't erase that image from her mind; though she had seen Legolas a number of times since her first child's birth, none had sparked memories like this one. Images of her father and brothers, her friends and grandparents raced through her mind, dancing before her swimming eyes. She would never see them again. They were never coming back and no ship would take her into the West. She no longer felt the call, and Legolas was all she had left; this one shard of her old life, a little piece of light.  
  
But how that light had dimmed. Looking at him now, Arwen was painfully aware of the shadow in Legolas' eyes, the utter look of defeat.  
  
'Undomiel, are you well?' He spoke quietly, and she realised how near he stood.  
  
'I am well. Forgive me Legolas, it was nothing.'  
  
For a moment the pain faded and was replaced by understanding. 'I know what it is that hurst you. I remind you of _them._ I should never have come.'  
  
Frowning, Arwen reached out and grabbed Legolas' arm as he turned, and shook her head sharply. 'Legolas, please,' she pleaded, and she knew how desperate her voice must sound. 'Please don't leave me. It hurts so much more when you are away and I have not one of my kin here.'  
  
Ah, but the pain was back again, and she winced at her words. She was being so selfish! Studying her now-soaked hem, Arwen twisted her hands and tried to breathe.  
  
'I am asking you Legolas. . .I know how much Aragorn misses you - how much he could use your council now with the troubles in the South. Stay.' Legolas was staring at her hand, and she removed it slowly. For a moment longer he stayed silent, until finally he raised his head and turned slightly, looking at the sun with unblinking eyes as it rose above the White City.  
  
'I will stay for a time. It is not that I have not missed yours or Aragorn's company,' he said, laughing sharply. 'There have been other issues.' Arwen stood with him awhile longer, knowing he would not elaborate. They stood, side by side, the new sun glinting off their hair, and Eldarion smiled his gentle smile from his window.  
_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^  
  
**Author Note**: Hello hello! *ducks flying veggies* I know, I know, I haven't updated in AGES! Really, I do realise I was a very bad girl. In fact I don't even have a good excuse like 'I was so busy!' [which I was] or 'My computer broke down' or something like that. Nope, it wasn't even writers block...I just flat out didn't feel like writing. I have written the next 2 chapters already, I just have to find the time to post them. I think all together there will be 15 chapters, probably including the epilogue. That's right. Aragorn is kicking the bucket very soon so...ya. Anyway, thank you so much to those of you who still reviewed in my..er..absence..your disgust and disappointments at my abandoning-of-the-story is truly what got me writing again. And a special hello and hat-tip too the girly's over at the Undying Love forums at F4F. Goodness I miss you all! Hope to have the time to pop in soon....  
---Red Dragon  



	12. Burdens

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a thing, unfortunately. If I did, I would be a very, very rich person right now...  
  
**Author Note:** My dad just died last night [at 56] of a heart attack, so I might be too busy in the next week or so too actually post any more chapters. However, never fear, I shall finish this story...an event like this makes me want to write anyway.  
**A Dark Sunrise  
Chapter Twelve - Burdens  
  
** Aragorn was over-joyed to say the least with the news of Legolas' stay.   
  
'And I _thought _I was the skulking ranger!' He joked, slapping a startled Legolas on the shoulder. 'Too long have you roamed the countryside, old friend; I've so missed the Company.' His voice lowered suddenly and he stepped nearer to the elf. 'I need to ask you a favour, Legolas.' Legolas nodded and moved apart from the small crowd of youth who surrounded them - Arwen had so many daughters!  
  
When they had reached the door of Legolas' old room, Aragorn stopped him with his hand. Legolas was surprised to see the intense look of relief on the kings face; a face which had weathered in the past years.  
  
'It is good that you've returned, Legolas; Arwen has not been well at all.'  
  
The Elf's face darkened, his lineless face frowning. 'What do you mean? Has she been ill?'  
  
'Not exactly; she is more like a_ shell _when you are away. She looks healthy enough, and my physicians assure me that physically, she is well. But I know she is not alright. Arwen has always emotional, but lately, she seems drawn. Stretched. Something is paining her.'  
  
'The absence of her father and brothers perhaps? She was with them for many life times of men.'  
  
'Perhaps. I believe she misses the elves in general. She still has me, and all of her children, but it is as though she were alone. She's broken.'  
  
Legolas sighed, and traced a finger over the delicately carved wood of his door. 'I think I am not the one to help her, Aragorn.'  
  
Aragorn looked closely at the elf, who looked just as he had twenty-five years ago, but who's eyes had aged a lifetime. 'You can certainly do better than I,' the king said gently, 'you've always had a way with her.'  
  
Letting out his breath, Legolas nodded and pushed his door open, leaving the king to think to himself.  
^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^  
  
Breakfast the following morning was quite an event. Word had spread quickly of the elves return, and especially of his plans to stay. Seraphia followed him persistently, her 18 year old mouth open in wonder. Legolas didn't mind, really. He rose early and layed down late, so he always had plenty of time to himself. Arwen's daughters; 5 there were, stood a safe distance away, observing every move, giggling and whispering behind their hands.  
  
Legolas was sure he was nothing to look at; perhaps they were laughing at him. He wore the same hunting ware he had used in the wild; the light, streamlined tunic was streaked, and his leggings spotted. His tall, soft boots were scuffed and un-polished. But his hair; his hair as always was fair and straight and clean. His skin was smooth and pale and made his brilliantly crystal eyes seem even brighter. No, they could not possibly be looking at _him._   
  
Eldarion, at least, was the same. Legolas found it remarkable to contrast the king and his son; Aragorn was kind and open, his brown wavy locks falling to his shoulders. Eldarion on the other hand was a mass of black hair, framing the fair skinned face and storm-grey eyes. He was quiet and serious and lithe; very unlike Aragorn's muscular build. He had been greatly influenced by Legolas' training, and by his mothers blood; Eldarion carried an uncanny resemblance to Elrond, in voice, appearance, and temper. He would make a good king.  
  
Legolas surveyed the table, taking in the daughters who sat across from him, vying for his attentions, Eldarion, who sat quietly by his own shoulder, Seraphia claiming the seat to Legolas' other side. Finally, his eyes swept over Aragorn and Arwen, positioned at the head of the table, Aragorn's hand covering Arwen's, their heads close together in private conversation. Risking drawing the attention of the chattering girls, Legolas slid from his seat and walked soundlessly out of the hall doors.  
  
He realised he should have stayed at the table at least until the king and queen were gone, but he was sure he would not be missed. He made his way to the stables, and let himself into Harlofell's stall. He heard the barn door open behind him, but concentrated on stroking his mare's silver coat.  
  
'You suffer,' came Eldarion's soft voice from the stall door. 'Why do you not speak to her?'  
  
Biting back a sharp reply, Legolas controlled himself. 'You mother has nothing to do with my pains, young master.'  
  
'Indeed.'  
  
Legolas stopped stroking his mare's coat, and turned to face the prince. His elven eyes quickly picked the figure out of the shadows. Eldarion had always been skilled at reading him, even as a young boy.  
  
'Did she ever tell you how we met?'  
  
'Many times. She said that even then, you were secretive and moody.'  
  
Legolas laughed then, long and genuinely at the young man's choice of words.  
  
'Secretive and moody?' He said incredulously, remembering well the many times Arwen had gazed at him with exasperation. 'Yes, I suppose I was. So much has changed.'  
  
Eldarion nodded, and crossed his arms. 'You miss her, yet you refuse to be near her. Why does she irrititate you so?'  
  
'She doesn't,' Legolas said quickly. 'She never has. But there are some things that will never change; things that are too _late_ to change, that burden me. Such is the curse of the Eldar, Eldarion.' He lowered his eyes and clenched his fist, remembering acutely the night of the dance in Rivendell. But that was before the Quest, before the wedding, before her _choice._   
  
'She needs you now,' Eldarion said, leaning forward in order to see Legolas' face in spite of the shadows. 'Father grows older, and Arwen knows her time is running out. I think she didn't realise how much it would hurt, seeing him die. I think she does not understand death.'  
  
Legolas looked up sharply, but Eldarion's eyes were focused on Harlofell. 'Nor do I, Eldarion. Is it a curse or a gift? I do not know. Perhaps someday I will.'  
  
Eldarion was silent at this, and did not press the matter.  
^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^  
  
**Author Note: **So yes, yes, I will put the next chapter up as soon as I have some time...I have the next few chapters ready, so all I need is the time. Hope you all are well. Hello to those at F4F.  
--Red Dragon  



	13. The White Tree Falls

**Disclaimer: **None of this is mine! None of it! *sniffles*  
  
**A Dark Sunrise   
  
Chapter Thirteen - The White Tree Falls  
  
**At last Aragorn grew weary of his life, for very long had it been; nearly three times the life age of a man.   
  
The warm summer was drawing to a close, and Aragorn chose that night to go, for that was the choice of the Numenoreans. When he approached Arwen that night, she knew. For the rest of her days she would remember the way the last winds of summer blew through the open castle, bringing with it the scent of sweet flower and cool water; the way her dear Estel looked, and the way her dress seemed to constrict her breathing, her vision swimming before her eyes.  
  
Choking back her long-damned grief, she took his hand in hers.   
  
'Would you then, lord, before your time leave your people that live by your word?'  
  
'Not before my time,' he answered gently. 'For if I will not go now, then I must go perforce. And Eldarion our son is a man full-ripe for kingship.'  
  
This, at least, was true. Eldarion was at full stature; had endured many trials, had battled, and had roamed Middle-Earth as his father had once done. He was ready.  
  
Arwen was not. Though she had seen Aragorn's death coming for long months, the grief hit her full-force.  
  
So they went to the House of the Kings, in the Silent Street, and Eldarion was with him. The King's son was silent all the way, and Arwen was much reminded of Legolas' wall of defences. Her son would not break.  
  
Legolas came also, and knelt by the kings bed. 'Fair passage may you have, lord.' Tears clung to the edge of Legolas' eyes, the only time Arwen had seen him crumble fully.  
  
It seemed that the wind stole his words, and he knelt by the king and did not say anything, though his forehead rested on Aragorn's chest, and his shoulders shook. All present were unable to comfort the prince, and silence reigned.   
  
Aragorn lay and gazed at his old friend and nodded his head in understanding. 'Do not despair, Legolas. We will walk in separate paths, but we will not remain in sorrow.' Lowering his voice to a whisper, Aragorn took his friends hand and gazed deep into the shocking blue eyes that wept over him. 'It is possible for a woman to love two men. She was never lost to you. She will need you now - do not forsake her.' A long moment passed, and Legolas stood, bowing to the King, and passed out of the Silent Street.  
  
Eldarion came forward then, and took the winged crown of Gondor and sceptre of Arnor, and layed his head near his fathers. None heard the exchange passed between father and son, nor did Eldarion ever speak of it; he rose at last and left the House of Kings, just as Legolas had done, without looking back. Arwen and Aragorn were alone.  
  
Arwen did not bother trying to hold herself together. Crumbling at Aragorn's shoulder she gripped her husbands hand and pleaded for his life, but for all her wisdom and lineage she could not persuade him to stay yet awhile. Wishing to comfort his distraught wife, Aragorn resisted the darkness which closed in around him to speak to her once more.  
  
'Why do you weep? You are not bound to me. Repent and cross the sea to the West with Legolas, bare away your sorrow to the Undying Lands.' But Arwen has slipped into a kind of dream, and she saw herself from above. She saw a pale woman dressed in a funeral gown of deep scarlet and black leaning over the shape of a great king. They sat alone in a great Hall of Kings, and the air of death was thick in that place. The stone of the Hall was cold but not uncomforting; the statues of the kings of old gazing down in silent sorrow to see this parting. No wind passed through the ancient house. No trees or stars sang their songs, and if they did, Arwen could not hear them. For the first time, she was truly aware of death, and she feared it. Coming back to herself she smiled weakly at her dying husband; watched as a crystal tear splashed on her lord's face.  
  
'Nay, dear lord,' she said softly at last, her hand tracing the lines of Aragorn's face. 'That choice is long past, and no ship would bare me hence. If this is the gift of men, as the Eldar say, it is indeed bitter to receive.'   
  
'Aye, in sorrow we must go, but not in despair. We are not bound to this world, and beyond them is more than memory. Farewell!' And his eyes fell shut even as he kissed her hand and he at last gave in to death. Arwen lay her head over his still chest, her long hair like a fan about her and cried long into the night. In Aragorn a great beauty was revealed, for it seemed the grace of his youth, and the valor of his manhood, and the wisdom and majesty of his age were blended together.  
  
But Arwen took no notice of this in her grief, and she left the House with the light in her eyes quenched.  
  
She said farewell to Eldarion and her daughters, and those whom she had loved, and all were distressed to see their cold mother go, for they knew they would never see her again.  
  
Mounting her grey steed the queen galloped from Minas Tirith and made her way to the silent forests of Lothlorien, where none now dwell.  
  
_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^  
Well this chapter was inevitable, and I decided to stick it in here. I know that there was no romance for Legolas and Arwen, but you will have to forgive me, because for this chapter I thought it only fair to give Arwen and Aragorn their dues. This is not only a love story; I warn you now, I think that this story will not end 'happily' per say, but bittersweet. Thanks so much to all who expressed condolences...*wave* *hugs* to all at the Undying Love forum. You know who you are.^_^  
--Red Dragon  



	14. Cerin Amroth

**A Dark Sunrise  
  
Chapter Thirteen - Cerin AmrothLegolas knew where Arwen would flee. He knew, but he let her go alone at first, letting her have the first hours to herself. And he did not think he could hold himself together before the distraught queen. He had witnessed the queens farewell to Eldarion; how it pained him to see her son struggle to keep his brave front.  
  
When the night at last was waning, and the last stars hung low in the sky, Legolas prepared his stallion, and said his goodbyes to those he knew. Last of all he approached the young king, who sat in the garden, gazing into the trees, his mouth a hard line, his eyes the washed out grey of a defeated storm cloud.  
'Eldarion,' he spoke to the darkness. The king did not turn.**

'Are you going to her?' He said finally, not looking at the stricken elf.  
  
'Yes.''And you will not return.' He stated it, as something he knew to be true.'No.'Eldarion nodded slightly, and with a sigh, gazed at the first smudges of dawn in the east.'My father told me once, that Arwen looked at you in a certain way - a way she saved for no one else. He said that you could soothe her in a way he never could. He said that truly, the stars and sun sang only for the two of you, and no other. I have seen all this for myself, Legolas, and if it is still true, I beg that you would stay with my mother now. I would not have her spend her last days alone in the he dead quiet places where Elves once dwelled. Please!'For Eldarion this was an enormously long speech, and the young man fell silent upon realising this, his expression strangely serene.'Yes, young master. I will be with Arwen through her last lonely days, however much it grieves me to see her so. But the stars and the sun - they never sang of anything but sorrow.' Silence followed Legolas' last words and Eldarion turned at last. The elf was gone.  
  
The ride to Lothlorien was long, and spanned many days, even astride his silver stallion who ate the miles in his haste. Ever north he went, until at last he saw the green borders of the woodland. They were a mournful sight, for no music rang through the ancient paths, and no light graced the dying trees.Dry leaves littered Legolas' path into the forest, and the setting sun shone only weakly through the trees. The elves were gone. Most had sailed, or joined Celeborn and Thranduil in their rule of Mirkwood.And the silence! It was heavy and suffocating, and there were not even animal sounds to break it. But still Legolas rode deeper into the forest, at last coming to Caras Galadhon, where he suspected Arwen might be. Here, the last strands of elven magic remained, and the great house, dark though it was, shone with a gentle silver light, and the stars overhead seemed nearer.Slipping off his stallion Legolas spoke softly too him, stroking his unbridled head, before slapping him on the rump. He did not watch his horse gallop away, but turned towards Galadriel's house and began making his way up the stairs, which seemed to wind endlessly into the foliage of the great trees.And there he found her. As he topped the stairs he saw her, facing an open window, her hair cascading down her back. She was wearing a black dress of velvet which sat just off her shoulders, exposing her deathly pale skin.'Arwen...' he whispered, but she didn't turn; she was as still as one of the great statues in Minas Tirith. He walked, slowly and silently, until he stood just a few feet behind her. Still, she did not move.'I didn't think it would be so peaceful.' She said at last, her voice low and soft. 'How can something so cold - so cruel - be so gentle? He almost seemed to want to go; it seems only a moment ago that we met. There was no struggle, in that last moment. He just layed there and was breathing and then he wasn't. Legolas?''Yes, Undomiel?' Legolas stepped closer immediately, and took her hands in his; they were icy cold, but his warm hands could easily envelope hers.'Have you come to see me die?' Her voice shook as she said this, but her eyes were dry and focused on the silent trees which stood just out of the window.'Nay, evening star. I came to see you live; the elves know nothing of death. I fear I will be of no comfort.'Arwen's eyes dropped at last, and she turned slightly towards the elf beside her.  
'When my father left, he told me that one day this time would come. That Aragorn would die, and that I would come to Lorien and be alone. He did not think you would be here. When you sail, Legolas, tell my father you were with me.'Legolas nodded slightly, but Arwen did not miss the shadow that crossed his face.'What is it?'Looking at the woman before him, her cheeks streaked by tears, her skin pale and her lips bright, Legolas winced and released her hands.'I do not know if I will be sailing, fair one.''You must Legolas. You must. You cannot just disappear into the wild and live forever until the mountains fall and the elves are long forgotten. The West awaits you.'Yet I think that I will not see it,' he said. 'Elves can die by steel or heartache.' He stopped shortly and stared hard out the window, the weak starlight glinting off his hair. 'I cannot lose both of you,' he said sharply, but her hand on her arm stopped him from turning away.'You will never lose me,' Arwen said simply, and pulled him towards her. 'I was never lost to you.''But you were never mine,' he said selfishly, and at last she knew his burden.'Long ago, you said you had your own demons to fight. Burdens. What was your greatest grievance?'He did not look at her, but closed his eyes and inhaled thinly. 'You know already, lady, do not tease me so.'She gripped his arm tighter and spoke what she had always known, deep down. 'It was that you loved me, and could not have me. It was that you saw what the mortals did to Middle-Earth: you heard it scream in agony. And you knew that one day I would be one of them, never to see the green shores of the Undying Lands.'His head was low, refusing to look at this woman he had loved for so many years.  
'Legolas,' she sighed softly, and released her grip on his arm. 'How you've suffered.'   
The starlight dimmed overhead.  
  
Months past while Arwen clung to life, but at last the shadow of death was upon her. Legolas sat, unmoving, by the queens head, one hand to his chest. He was singing the death dirge, silently asking that her soul travel quickly to wherever it was Mortals went._ To wherever Mortals went. _

_  
_ The enormity of the situation, the fact that he would never, ever see her again, even in spirit, burned him like the hell-breath of a Balrog. The idea of ending of _ceasing to be_, was one he could simply not comprehend. Even a slain elf he would see again. True death never came for them, but it was surely the death dew that lay on his beloved's brow now.

The silence surrounding them was now absolute. There was no gentle wind, no birds, not even the whisper of life in this place. Legolas felt a squeeze on his hand, and looked into the shadowy depths of Arwen's eyes.'Take me once more to Cerin Amroth.' Her eyes fell closed again and only her shallow breathing interrupted the silence. He complied, gently picking her slight body up, beginning the long trip down the twisting staircases of Caras Galadhon. Her weight was no more than a speck of dust to him, as though her soul was already flown. Yet he sensed that her weak heart still fluttered, persisting for one long moment after the next.  
  
At last he lay her on the green grass of Cerin Amroth, and her eyes opened a last time. She breathed deeply, and took a last slow look at the magnificent, ancient trees of Lothlorien. It was not yet spring, but no thing would bloom again in Lorien anyway, except on the mound where she lay. It would take long years for the magic here to fade. Leaves fell around them, and the last of the elanor and niphredil was blooming around her head. She was suddenly afraid, the tears welling furiously in her eyes as she strained to speak. But she didn't have too. Legolas was there, his face so near, and her fear was driven away by his presence.The forest seemed to grow dark, and only his face filled her eyes. She moved her lips, and he leaned forward to catch the words, but she kissed him instead. Long and tender, with all her will she tried to tel him she had loved him, always. But she could not speak, and at last her final breath was spent. Her lids closed forever over her violet eyes.Legolas' choked howl echoed through the forest, and the stars shuddered and veiled themselves.AUTHOR NOTE: Well, well. cough Yes, feel free to crab at me...I know it took me forever to get these chapters up. I'm afraid my heart wasn't quite in them...I've been very occupied lately. Anyway, the next chapter is the last one..really more of an epilogue. Hope you enjoy it at least somewhat. Thank you all for reading! I warned you it wouldn't end happy! Muahahahahahah!!! waves and hugs to everyone at Undying Love. 


	15. It is Finished

**A Dark Sunrise  
Chapter Fourteen - It is Finished**

**  
Days passed before Legolas stood. He had buried his fair one beneath the green grasses of Cerin Amroth, and there, he knew, she would lay undisturbed until the worlds ending.   
  
He would sail to the Undying Lands. In that last, aching moment, he had felt her love and her plea for him to survive, so strong he had nearly fallen back. And he had heard her heart stop.**

**  
He walked and did not stop to eat or drink, continuing towards the Grey Havens singlemindedly.**

**  
He did not know how much time had passed but walked always west, and in his mind he saw things of times past. People who passed him were afraid, thinking him some elven spirit, alarmed by his unblinking eyes, a stream of tears falling and not stopping and never brushed away.  
  
He arrived, and built his boat from fine silver wood, all in the same dazed manner. He was vaguely aware of the worlds silence. The elves light no longer graced the world. The stars veiled themselves and sang no more. The trees were silent and still. The animals became dull-eyed. He knew in the depths of his mind that this world was theirs no longer; not even the wind could rouse itself. When it did, it sobbed and said nothing more.**

**  
When the morning dawned that he would leave, Gimli arrived. He was old, but he came silently and placed his scarred hand on Legolas' arm. Legolas nodded.**

**  
Together they sailed from the havens, and the sun blinded any who might spy them leaving. Celeborn and Thranduil felt the chill of death in Middle-Earth as well, and they sounded their horns a last time, and sailed from the world of men forever.**

**

* * *

The stories of the elves died with the old ones, or passed into legend. The years passed and even the stones forgot the caress of the Eldar.  
But the stars do not forget. The star song of sorrow is never ended, though we can hear it no more.  
  
****FINAL AUTHOR NOTE:** FINISHED! At last! Thank you so much to all who reviewed and read my story. This was something that I was driven to do, and felt motivated to finish, at least for the sake of those who read it. Hopefully another story will present itself to me...writing has been a very enjoyable experience. Hugs and kisses to everyone. Bis spater!


End file.
